Harvey's Very Late Arrival

January 29th, 2012 was a Sunday and as I am remembering it was a little snowy and I was scared out of my mind. How did the past 42 weeks fly by my eyes and how was I still feeling ill prepared for our new arrival? My initial reaction to pregnancy was sheer and utter joy. I have been dreaming of motherhood since I knew that I myself could make one of these amazing itty bitty beautiful creatures. Imagine- 5 years old fascinated at the fact that ME, MY little bitty tummy could one day produce an amazing little version of myself. Words can't describe the excitement! Yet, here I am- begging that they let him just come naturally. The doctors and midwives have obliged me 14 days past my due date. At this point, I'm really just pushing my luck. My fear does not come from a place that somehow doubts my mothering skills, rather I'm scared that all of my furry babies are going to forget I love them. An hour before I head to the hospital for my induction I'm laying as best I can at 42 weeks pregnant in the floor with my dog staring into his eyes promising I'll still love him forever!

Now, you look in those eyes and tell me your heart wouldn't also be breaking.

So after my heartfelt goodbye to my sweet pooch we were off to the hospital. It was a short 7 minute drive, not nearly long enough for us to prepare for what was lying ahead. I had my reservations about being induced. It was so far from my birth plan I preferred not to think about it, but here I am. Walking into the E.R was not nearly as scary as I had envisioned it being. Though I had imagined myself being wheeled in at 8 cm ready to become a monster of a woman and push this child into the world! Instead I'm in some sweatpants, no pain to be seen, no sign of labor just a girl and her belly. Jason has carried in my bag and I'm still so worried about the animals I'm not registering anything we are supposed to be doing. Sign a few papers, go up the hall and bam, welcome to the Holistic Birthing Center. My people. These nurses and doctors were going to calm me into a birthing stupor. There was going to be a warm pool of water for me to labor in, there was going to be incense burning and damn it all I was going to have a beautiful drug free birth!

What a crock of shit that all turned out to be! We ended up using a "tampon-like thing" the first night to loosen my cervix up. Little did I know that my cervix is made of steel and there is nothing, and I mean NOTHING that can penetrate it! The next morning after I have dilated none, we start pitocin. My birth plan is shot. But still I am convinced that with will and determination I can still have a vaginal delivery. I labor hard for a solid 12 hrs on the highest dose of pitocin allowed, full well expecting that at the end of all of this I was going to have a gorgeous baby boy crawling up my chest for some serious Kangaroo Care. The midwife comes in and during my 12 hr long contraction checks my cervix- I look up with what I can only describe as pitiful eyes, hoping against all hope that we've made some progress only to hear her say that I MAY be at 1 cm. 

ONE CENTIMETER!?!?!? IS THIS WOMAN DERANGED!!!! Lie to me! Tell me I'm at two and I'm doing a wonderful job and that my baby will be here soon!!!  ONE?!?! I feel my entire well of self-confidence shrivel up into a dry pit. One? Come on man. I'm sweaty, I'm gross and I'm exhausted. They ask me if I'd like to have my water broken. I'm still totally against forcing this baby to come out. I still want him to come to it in his own time. So I refuse. I'll rest tonight and tomorrow we will try pitocin again and I'm sure he will find his way out. 

Day Two of labor begins at 4 am. I immediately begin contracting. One big long, 15 hr contraction. In the midst of it all they attempt to break my water- this does nothing. I eventually graduate to a possible 2 cm before the midwife comes in and cradles my exhausted hands and tells me that I need to seriously consider a C-section. At this point I don't have too much choice left, my sweet baby boy is no longer floating in safety and is rather losing fluid and his heart rate isn't fairing well. What else can I do? It's either give in and have this C-section or risk one of our lives trying to get him out. Bring on the O.R!

Within an hour of Jay and I deciding that this was our only option we are being prepped to head back. Jay has been my rock through this entire ordeal. We had agreed to just talk it all out during its duration. And we did just that. Between my screaming and wailing he waited patiently for me to find a break and we could discuss. He never once pushed anything on me, or panicked or let me know for one second that he was as scared as I was. I could not have asked him to do a better job. Had he faltered at any point during all of this I would have lost my cool. He suits up for the O.R with as much enthusiasm as he can muster and gives me a pep talk. "Bird, it's all going to be fine. In a few minutes we are going to have a baby boy!"

He was so right, they wheeled me back, and in 15 minutes I was listening so intently to what was going on that when he finally screamed it was like my entire body just gave in. He's here. He's safe. Holy shit I'm a parent.